


Natural Defiance

by ZoinksSc00b



Series: Left Behind [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dead Sheev Palpatine, Fake Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, rako hardeen arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25993327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoinksSc00b/pseuds/ZoinksSc00b
Summary: Rex didn’t believe he had the right to be as devastated as he was over Obi-Wan’s death. They had been friends, but he had never been as close to him as Cody or General Skywalker. However, that didn’t erase how completely shattered he was.
Relationships: Dogma/CC-1010 | Fox, Obi-Wan Kenobi/CT-7567 | Rex, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Series: Left Behind [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936636
Comments: 31
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr is @iputtheaceindisgrace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reusing child ocs? In my good omegaverse fic? It’s more likely than you think. Kotyc, Mirdala, and Pounamu all deserved to be raised by their parents.

The clones were scented with a uniform, metallic tang which left a sterile taste in the mouth if dwelled upon for too long; clones smelled like droids to any _normal_ being. This fact justified the way they were treated because they weren't real, not truly. Fleshy covering was the sole factor separating them from any other lump of metal. They were null, obedient to any master they were given and lacked the individuality of a genuine sentient.

They were nothing.

Growing up, Rex had never understood what the instructors meant when they claimed his vode were scentless. His ori'vode had distinct aromas that colored and soaked into his memories, so he couldn't entertain the thought of their absence. He had spent a good portion of his childhood seeping in the undertones of sugar in an otherwise bitter caf as he pressed into the security of his ori'vod. He remembered how sizzling tinder turned into a passionate flame whenever Kote zeroed in on a goal. Rex knew he had an air of cinnamon based on what vode had told him over the years. The scent of a clone was as defining and crucial as any other trait.

If anyone was scentless, it was the Kaminoans. Yet, they still had the odor of stale rations permeating around them (Natborn scents were nauseating to the clones, but they became bearable after the initial interaction as exposure led to dilution.). Rex hadn't been taught what the scents were signs of until he was older. The Kaminoans had overlooked a part of their biology because of how indistinguishable they were from droids: secondary sexes.

Jango Fett had been a beta which was one of many factors that made him a perfect template for creating the soldiers of the Republic. Kaminoans, as a species of betas, saw the hiccups and drawbacks of having an army hindered by biological imperatives. They thought they had gotten away with a null army when every batch decanted with a plain fragrance. It wasn't until they were five years into production that their mistake was unveiled.

One of their little droids presented.

Turns out what was deemed as no scent was a scent so faint it was only detectable by other clones. However, they weren't willing to acknowledge their error until it became clear that getting rid of the defects was a waste of resources. Clones presented at the normal ratio of the human species: a third beta, a third alpha, a third omega, and a handful of nulls. Whether it be disposing of all those who presented or only one sex, it simply wasn't worth it.

The change of heart didn't bring back the thousands of vode they had decommissioned before that point.

Rex had felt the indicative beads of sweat when he was thirteen. Luckily, he had been with the batch of his older brothers at the time. Not every vod presented in front of people who wouldn't hurt them. One of his ori'vode had already presented as an omega, so he took Rex aside to explain what was happening and how his life would permanently change.

The days leading up had been an unrelenting, sticky temperature that had provoked him into worrying over its origins. It was uncomfortable, but he could still go through the day with minimal hardship. The actual heat had left him delusional: a whimpering mess that pried at the constriction against its blazing skin. His solace had been the calming aroma of bittersweet caf that escaped the scent glands on his brother's neck whenever he nudged his nose into them.

First heats were a blur of feverish, barely-attached moments, but the presence of his ori'vod had been constant as Rex trembled in his arms. Rex still preferred drinking caf that smelled like him. It was especially comforting to have after a heat and was a suitable replacement. Echo had gotten that specific brew down to an art form back when they were sharing their heats (He knew Keeli had the same preference as him and that his riduur was as equally accommodating as Echo had been.). Making his caf after an unaccompanied heat never failed in reminding him of the people he had left behind.

As long as the public had no clue they were more human than they were sold as, the Kaminoans would look the other way. When he had been a cadet, there was another unspoken about the conception of the second generation. It had been altered after the Jedi had become involved in Kaminoan affairs. The scientists would attempt to decommission a pregnant vod before any Jedi could find out, yet most slipped through the cracks. It happened enough that an area in the Temple had been dedicated to clone offspring.

Essentially, the Kaminoans dumped a bunch of hormonal, young adults and teenagers on the Republic army. Natborn and Jedi officers were shocked to find out they weren't as null as the majority of the population believed. As expected, they adapted to the reality with the grace of any military leader. The GAR was surprisingly accommodating to the alpha and omega soldiers when it came to ruts and heats respectively.

With officers, Rex had never had problems surrounding his status as an omega. General Skywalker theoretically understood the strain of going through a heat as an alpha. He had never been anything but hospitable when it came to the troopers under him needing time off. Of course, people were different in their approach towards the situation.

Being an omega hadn't been a problem until Umbara. Prejudice came back up into the conversation when Krell made his opinions extremely clear on the topic. It had never walked out the conversation as it lurked in the background through acts ingrained in the culture of the natborns. Most officers had enough brain cells to keep their interactions professional on a surface level. People were aware of what happened when someone messed with those close to General Skywalker.

Krell had been unpleasant at the start, but his lack of respect had spawned from Rex being a poor replica of a dead sentient. It was irritating but nothing unique. Some officers didn't bother to check what the designations of their soldiers were and, apparently, Krell was one of them. He had been repulsed by Tup's offhand mention of his status. It had prompted a brief statement over how certain clones, with their inferior design, should have been scrapped along with any byproducts they spawned. Rex, who had been close to cracking, bluntly reminded the General about how he should watch his tone because he was speaking to two omegas, not one.

He had never been ashamed of his secondary sex, or, at least, not more than the usual amount of shame his kind held. Tup seemed to be of a similar opinion as him, for he carried the outward confidence which was required for any omega to overcome Kamino.

Rex had despised witnessing that very shame in Dogma as he cowered at the snarled remarks. He soaked in every word as though the natborn was right, and it was one of the many moments where Rex was reminded of how young Tup and Dogma were.

They were adults in the eyes of their culture, but it didn't detract from the fact that they were _sixteen_. The blind devotion Dogma exhibited was normal for cadets of his age, but it was easy to ignore their youth with how mature they were. Those extra years on Kamino were crucial in a trooper finding their identity, yet it had been stripped from the newer squads being deployed.

Rex had been a di'kut when he was around their age: full of wishful thinking and longing for a life far from Kamino. Dreaming of a planet like the ones the instructors talked about where the greenery was smothering with its color and scent. He wanted something real, unlike the simulations or what he had read. He wished to experience the outside world at his own leisure and with someone he chose. But, those were the hopes of a teenager who had known the isolation of an endless ocean and millions of faces like his own. Nothing more than the sum of his vode.

_He had grieved into the reassurance of caf as everything was stripped from him. Pain had muted him as he stopped breathing; gasping for air in desperation had done nothing but make him realize how pitiful he was. He had been naive to think he was more than his service to the Republic._

Rex found it uncanny how similar he had been to Dogma when he was younger. There were differences, but the similarities stung and seeing Dogma make the mistakes he had was unbearable.

It became apparent Dogma had been given plenty of backing and support for why he should trust the Jedi as much as he did. Rex couldn't fault him for his logic. The captain respected the privacy of his men, but this hadn't stopped him from taking a peek at the horizontal scar running across Dogma's abdomen in the showers. As the water had slid down his torso, Rex's eyes easily went towards the line that was too surgical and precise to have been the result of Umbara or training on Kamino. When Dogma had caught him staring, he had turned a rich hue as he covered his stomach: embarrassed and ashamed by the undeniable indication of his status.

Rex had never brought it up, and he believed Dogma had appreciated not having to explain his situation.

Rex could only hope his assumption was wrong.

As a cadet, he had become used to natborns getting a little closer than they were supposed to; _hot breath had tickled his neck as hands bruised his hips and he had purred in the ecstasy of being claimed._ Even if he never smelled like one, a few instructors had a thing for pretty, young omegas. Despite being familiar with an insolent natborn berating him over how his perfect aim was off, he still couldn't complete a simple task. He had been taught how to refuse the voice, but he _couldn't_.

Past anguish had crippled him and forced his mind to lock down when all he wanted to do was pull the trigger. A part of him had wanted to submit: the part craving the touch of an alpha he hadn't felt in years. Rex loathed the way Krell smirked back at the beautiful and submissive omega who took orders so well. Krell had his back towards the blaster. He had been on his knees. Rex had all the power in the situation, but he froze when Krell started gloating over the fear he sensed. An innocent thing like him must love the false sense of control he had, yet he wouldn't shoot because he would be weak no matter how hard he tried to lie to others. He would have to do it eventually, but Krell should've expected cowardice and timidity from something that wasn't fulfilling its purpose.

It was natborns like Krell that made Rex check for his blaster whenever a new aroma began polluting his senses. He didn't want to react like that. He knew the majority of natborns weren't like the ones that scrutinized his every move on Kamino or harassed him because he no longer had an alpha to protect him. Krell represented every person who had looked down at him because of what he couldn't control. There were hundreds of faces Rex wanted to warp with blaster fire, but, in the end, Krell was right: Rex was unable to shoot him.

He hated himself for allowing a shiny, a child, to make the decision. Rex had a responsibility to protect his vode and he _failed_ the moment he listened to Krell. He failed when he continued letting Dogma be manipulated by the alpha. He failed when Dogma stole Fives' blaster and did what Rex would have never had the will to do.

Dogma would become a better man than he could have ever been, and Rex was relieved by this fact. Rex detected immense potential in the clone who believed they were only a stereotype of their sex, but he had shown he could grow despite everyone turning against him. Rex felt like he was betraying himself when he didn't try harder covering for Dogma. Though Dogma had evolved, the opportunity to fully move past his blind loyalty had been stolen from him. Despite being frightened out of mind and numb with the realization that he might never see his family again, Dogma had faced the threat of being decommissioned with a calm Rex hoped to never see again.

\------

Rex, at this point in his life, was well-acquainted with loss. They had met frequently throughout his time in the GAR and on Kamino. The deaths of his vode ached, especially when he knew he was the one responsible, but somehow a natborn was what left him completely desolate. Clone deaths were _expected_ whereas the death of a Jedi was something he never thought he would have to deal with. Rex hadn't needed their mortality to be proven, but the reminder had left him confused and conflicted.

They had been out for a walk.

A fucking _walk_.

He was supposed to die at the hand of a Sith during a grand battle, not a bounty hunter who had gotten a lucky shot in.

Rex was a soldier; he shouldn't be reduced to a sniveling mess who curled up on their bunk like those lovestruck idiots on the holodrama Hardcase and Kix had roped everyone into watching. Nevertheless, there he was: limp in a secluded room that was part of the Coruscant Guard's quarters. It was technically the room meant for any clone captain or commander when they were docked on Coruscant, but Rex preferred staying with his vode in the barracks.

They didn't need to see their captain like this. He didn't want them to see him like this: to witness his mourning process.

The quarters were barren with a slight hum of ventilation that added little relief from the bleak atmosphere. It reminded him of Kamino: certain senses could become overwhelmed by a singular object. Shoving his face into General Kenobi's furled robe, he tried to concentrate on the scent sewn into the fabric in an attempt to drown out the voices in his head.

Tea with a dollop of honey flooded through him and he yearned for something more than a lousy replacement.

The scent was an offense to the Manda with how sweet it had been at the beginning, but it had never been unpalatable. Rex couldn't say that about many natborns. His own general's scent was one of the most repugnant he had encountered. He had been informed over how it was the scent of a candle right after being blown out. However, to all his vode it smelled like General Skywalker was constantly blowing smoke in their faces. He was used to it, yet he remembered the feeling of his lungs corroding as nonexistent smog sunk into every crevice.

The robe was all he had left of him, but the scent would soon fade and he would have to accept Kenobi was gone. In retaliation, he clung on tighter, pretending the movement on his cheeks was his imagination. It was surprisingly soft, but Rex hadn't known what to expect when Cody handed it to him hours before. The gift had resembled pity, but fuck it all if Rex didn't need it. Kote knew more than he should've about what their relationship had been and what it had resulted in.

Cody had been deployed to handle a Separatist attack on Crysol immediately after news had gotten out about his General's death. At the time, he had been with Boil as they were visiting Waxer at the Temple (Rex and General Kenobi had stopped by earlier, and that was the last time Rex saw him.). From what he had heard, Boil hadn't taken kindly to being separated from his husband again.

Rex understood his ori'vod was acting as the temporary General of the 7th Sky Corps. Any day now he would be officially promoted, and it would be a tremendous victory for his vode. One of their aliit would have an influential part and voice in the war which was unprecedented; they weren't meant to lead at this capacity. His vode would finally receive the representation they deserved, but Rex wished it had been under better circumstances.

General Kenobi would become another name the 212th grieved, but, at some point, his face would become one among thousands. With such a grand scale, anyone could be lost and Rex couldn't bear the thought of his memory dimming. He couldn't lose him again, but it was like the Jedi Order expected them to allow him to dwindle. 

No clone had been permitted at the funeral.

Not Cody

Not any of the 212th.

Not _him_.

He didn't have any claim on General Kenobi. Out of all his vode, nothing made him stand apart. Yet, it had hurt when he had been denied entrance. There were so many people General Kenobi would put before the clone and Rex wouldn't have had it any other way. He would never mean as much to the man as he wanted to, but Rex had lov-

Rex had cared about General Kenobi. He was an honorable man, a good friend, and he had not deserved what had happened. Rako Hardeen deserved whatever his general was planning on doing to him. Rex wouldn't mind hearing about how he had died of mysterious causes before General Skywalker could apprehend him.

What a terrible accident that would be.

It was as he was grasping onto the cloth like a lifeline, denying the silent tears cascading onto the fabric and stewing in his remorse, that he heard the door slide open. Wiping his tears on the robe had not helped his emotional output control. The attempt to mask his lamentation had ended in General Kenobi's scent mixing with his own. Rex was a stranger to the cinnamon invading his senses at the side of honey. He let out an involuntary sob at the loss of scent while his core shuddered at the invisible cold.

"Kix, I want to be alone," he whimpered at the figure in the doorway, pressing his face into the bed. He didn't want to taint the scent further, but its removal only caused more tears to be shed.

He was lying; he didn't want Kix to go. The past few months had reminded him of how much the medic cared about each and every one of their vode. Kix was among the few he would trust to see him like this.

"I'm not your medic," the figure replied with a voice deeper and more stoic than the beta's.

Rex was shocked it wasn't Kix checking in on him and he briefly worried over a stranger seeing him in that state. Cody and Kix had known more about his feelings than the others, yet, as he sniffed the air, there was the comfort of sugar. It had been roughly buried after Geonosis, but Rex could always find it with ease. His ori'vod was amazed by how Keeli and he could locate it so effortlessly as most people said there was only a bitter scent.

The older clone had been the sole witness to the lowest point in his life, so this was nothing compared to that. Ripping his face up from the wet spot on the bunk, tear tracks beginning to crust over, Rex looked over his shoulder at his brother.

The name came out with a shuddered breath of relief, "Fox."

"Rex'ika," he could glimpse the start of a soft smile under Fox's permanent, stern expression.

A portion of him feared Fox being repulsed by the portrayal of emotion, but like always he defied the expectations most of the GAR had for him by sitting on the bunk. They held eye contact for a few, unsettling seconds where Rex pleaded with red-tinted eyes for him to stay. A moment where he had held his breath in preparation of Fox taking one look at his distressed state and turning back to head out the door. He couldn't handle any more people leaving him.

"They brought in Hardeen an hour ago," Fox delivered the news to his despondent kih'vod as delicately as he could, but he was a naturally blunt person. It came out coarse as if he was reporting the fact to his higher-up, and Fox inwardly cringed at his tone. Rex appreciated the effort even if another sob racked through him.

That demalgolka was still _alive_.

Fury was being smothered by his sorrow, but the hints of everything boiling over were apparent with every convulsion of his body. Rex could feel the hand hovering above his shoulder; a tinge of doubt before Fox placed it down in sincerity. The soothing touch of his ori'vod rubbing his shoulder eased him, yet it couldn't quell the rising anger. Umbara, Zygerria, and the recent events were all crumbling down on top of him, and he didn't know what emotion he was supposed to be expressing. He wanted to rip someone's throat out with his teeth, but he also felt like crying until he was severely dehydrated. If Rex didn't know any better, he would say he was entering a small, stress-induced heat.

To say the least, mini heats or ruts were an experience. They were caused by an immense strain on a person's psyche, and they did no good in the middle of a war. Every alpha or omega clone had been sent into one at some point in their life.

Fives had gone into a rut after losing Echo. Jesse had also been sent into a rut as Kix and he waited for their mate to get out of his coma. The outbursts often occurred at times when they needed to be there for their family, but their body wouldn't allow it (Hardcase was alright now, well, technically he was all left. General Skywalker had felt guilty enough to make sure no more vode were taken in the aftermath of Umbara. Skywalker had enjoyed the challenge of making prosthetics, and Hardcase had found immense joy in ripping off his arm to whack Kix until he agreed to take a break from the medbay. It was as effective as the tried and true method of Jesse throwing Kix over his shoulder and refusing to set him down.).

Tup had forced himself out of the brink of one, which was not healthy, when his instincts recognized Dogma held priority. It had been in the period of waiting for word to come back about Dogma's trial and sentence. He blamed himself for not talking to Dogma or doing anything besides threatening to shoot him. Tup admitted to him that he would have killed Dogma if necessary and he hated himself because of it.

It was as Tup leaned into the comfort of Rex's side that his suspicions were confirmed and he learned of Ka'ra and Dinui. Just like Dogma, Tup spoke not a single word of the sire or the situation surrounding the conception of the twin boys. Rex believed it was none of his business. What mattered was Ka'ra and Dinui could be orphaned depending on the verdict and how Tup felt responsible for having his nephews lose their buir.

Dogma had already been in an impromptu heat when he had been delivered back to the 501st. It had resulted in Tup and Rex forcing him into a group nest. Dogma spent the majority of his heat either in deep sleep or thrashing around in Rex's embrace as he screamed for his pups. Rex wondered if this was what Fox had felt like when he had consoled Keeli or him. He loathed the necessity of reminding Dogma that he was the victim because his kih'vod was intent on insulting himself for allowing another natborn to use him. Dogma was brainwashed. It hurt that he would probably have to be coaxed out of his beliefs for years to come, but Rex was more than willing to encourage his progress.

The last, small heat Rex had suffered through was on Zygerria. The planet reminded him too much of Kamino. It had the same, disturbing climate despite the lack of sterile white and uniformity in every lifeform around him. His body couldn't handle the resemblance to the place where he had been stripped of his humanity, but he had noticed the symptoms before he had gotten too entangled. If the Zygerrians had discovered he was an omega, he would have been sold as a pleasure slave. Rex had preferred the route he had chosen over becoming breeding stock for some wealthy bastard.

The quickest way to end a mini heat was to be ejaculated in. He wasn't going to turn to the enslaved Togrutas and obviously not the Zygerrians, so that eliminated all but one person. It had been humiliating to ask, but the beta had understood the urgency.

Rex hadn't gone through any type of heat with someone who wasn't an omega in a long time.

Their coupling was a messy, clothed fuck on a grimy floor where the goal was for General Kenobi to come in Rex as fast as possible. It wasn't exactly the most romantic scenario in the galaxy, but it had been gentle in a way it hadn't needed to be. Kenobi had murmured into his neck while he was preparing Rex, asking him if he was sure about continuing. Rex had answered by rolling his hips at the fingers buried inside him which had caused Kenobi to chuckle into his throat. The vibration had been enough to arouse a scarcely suppressed moan.

His brain had been overwhelmed with desire every time the man teased him with light nips on his collarbone. An alpha wouldn't have been able to exhibit the control Kenobi had when Rex put his neck on full display. The General had almost sunk his teeth into the clone as hormones smeared both of their actions, but he had backed away because he recognized the omega couldn't consent during a heat.

Rex admired him for valuing his boundaries, but that didn't mean he wasn't slightly insulted. He knew he shouldn't be, yet he wished the man had claimed him instead of pretending the incident had never happened. Honestly, Rex wished he was more like General Di. Keeli and his husband had an arrangement going at the beginning of the war, but that had changed after Rex's niece was conceived. They were happily mated now with a second on the way and, yes, Rex was jealous. He loved his batchmate, but he also wanted to strangle him for receiving everything he had been refused.

He was broken out of his musing by a tightening grip on his shoulder and Fox gazing down at him: full of sympathy for his vod'ika who deserved more than constant heartbreak.

Letting out a faint sigh, Fox began, "I asked Cody this, but you know how he is with his emotions."

Cody buried his feelings, like most vode, but there were rare occasions where he would let passion control him. His relationship with Slick was what came to mind, but Rex had deduced the main thing he regretted was nothing coming to fruition. Cody had a habit of touching his neck as if something should be there but was always disappointed to find it blank. These breaks in restraint often led to suffering, so Cody would ask for input when he could sense the coils of fervor. It must have something to do with General Kenobi then.

"He told me to ask you," Fox had looked off to the wall, avoiding eye contact as Rex turned his head to him. He wondered what Kote could need him for and why it was bothering Fox.

"It's not uncommon for a prisoner to die."

The grasp on his shoulder had loosened, but Rex could sense Fox's anger towards the events had more to do with the consequences Rex had to face alone rather than the General's death.

He took in the statement: the way Fox had admitted he would go against regulation if it meant punishing those who had harmed him indirectly. The Coruscant Guard never accepted bribes, yet Fox was offering to dispose of an inmate. It didn't matter how much he yearned for vengeance; a clone's opinion didn't count for anything. He was going to respect Kenobi's code, but that wouldn't stop the water from trickling down onto the fabric.

"General Kenobi wouldn't have wanted that," he murmured into the robe that was becoming a perfect blend of their scents. He detested every whiff of cinnamon.

"You would know more than me," Fox admitted, tilting his head to the side in consideration. He moved his hand from Rex's shoulder to place it on his cheek, positioning his eyes to look at him. The calloused hand on his face wiped away the tears with a thumb. Leaning into the sensation, Rex stopped striving to hold back his tears. His vision blurred, but the concern of his vod remained evident in his touch and words.

"They had no right to decide who was important to him," the elder looked off to the tear-drenched robe. He recognized how much Rex had hidden under a front, "I think the Jedi forget we can mourn as well."

They weren't supposed to grieve. It was why the 212th had been hastily deployed. The common belief was they could simply move on faster or that the emotion didn't register. Why dwell on death when they could just be shipped out? They'll forget about it, but Rex couldn't stop thinking about him. It was shredding every strip of dignity he had, and Fox observed how the Jedi denying him entrance to the funeral had ruined him.

How the passing had ruined him.

How General Kenobi had ruined him.

Somehow the majority continued to believe he and his vode were nothing more than soulless beskar'ade. People who supposedly regarded them as equals had cut off a man from seeing his friend for the last time. For what reason? Was it because they or the clones were apathetic? Was it because he was a soldier and he shouldn't be halted by such weakness? Was it because the pacifist dar'manda had been there and they had deemed her more worthy of attending? Rex was fine with General Kenobi caring more about Duchess Kryze. Rex was fine with the Jedi assuming she was more important to Kenobi than him because she had been. Rex was fine with being tossed aside. Rex was _fine_.

"Do you have any paperwork you need to finish?" he queried shyly as Fox removed his contact. Fox would have to exit at some point, but Rex was going to postpone for as long as possible.

"The Chancellor should be doing it anyway," wasn't a no, but Rex could detect a hint of annoyance from Fox at the most powerful person in the Republic.

Sensing he would stay, Rex scooted over to make room for his vod in the cramped bunk. He watched and waited as Fox transported his armor from on top of his blacks to the floor surrounding the bunk. Pressing his chest against Rex's back, Fox roped his arms around the abdomen of his vod. He, himself, was absorbing the solace of cinnamon Rex had never been able to find. 

As he fell asleep in Fox's familiar warmth, for he had done it many times as a cadet, Rex indulged in the fading honey. The cloth added to the illusion of a protective embrace from the person he most wished to see. It was a substitution driven by the desperation to forget how his indecision had cost him everything.

And, for a moment, he allowed himself to pretend he had told Obi-Wan about the pups nestled inside of him.

He pretended Obi-Wan had loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not enough Rexobi Rako Hardeen fics. Let me put a little twist. I wanted to write omegaverse and ignore death.
> 
> I don’t know how long this is going to be. I have a lot of things I want to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ad'ike is still my pride and joy, but Natural Defiance is my side chick. Ni Ceta is my bastard child who I will get to eventually.
> 
> Also I’m writing a one-shot for this fic. Yay

Pretending had always been easier for the clones. The Kaminoans and the GAR preferred a soldier who played their part diligently and without question unless needed for the betterment of the whole. Ignoring everything that was wrong with the system and their lives guaranteed safety when they weren't on the battlefield. Rex had grown up in an environment where vulnerability was preyed upon and voicing opinions was an admittal of weakness. Whether in design or training, there was an error the Kaminoans needed to get rid of (After Slick had betrayed their aliit, the long-necks began dissecting the behavior of other omega clones in order to see if they were more susceptible to lapses in loyalty. Weeks of being monitored where Rex couldn't catch a break or drop the act of a perfect soldier. Deep down he wondered what had happened to Slick, but it came from his worry over Cody and not his concern over some aruetii. There was so much Slick had set back when it came to the rights of clones because whenever a vod spoke up they were deemed violent and irrational like him.).

Regardless, he shouldn't have pretended everything would work out because it rarely did.

As a robe found its way into his arms, he had gone numb with the news of General Kenobi's passing. There was this terrible realization that he shouldn't have held off telling the other man about what they had created. His fear of rejection or of losing the babies had made him promise himself he would inform Kenobi when he was further along. He regretted his hesitation.

Confined to his shell of a body, Rex hadn't been completely cut off from his emotions. He worried over the ade hidden under his armor as he thanked the Manda that they hadn't been mated. An individual losing a mate was like having their skin peeled off with a blunt edge until every hint of the relationship's existence was gone. If an omega was pregnant, the stress of losing their mate would cause a miscarriage or stillborn. The emotional toll would remain with a person even after they had long forgotten the excruciating pain.

His pups being taken away from him made the death of their sire seem like a minor inconvenience. He mourned, yet he held immense gratitude for still having pieces of General Kenobi. The beta wasn't fully lost. With that thought, everything spiraled because deep down he was ashamed of his relief. He was as furious as Skywalker, but the serene undertone niggling at the back of his head was persistent.

His instincts were trilling happily over the four pups in his womb. Kix was waiting to confirm the amount, but intuition was usually more right than wrong. The primitive part of him loved how soft and supple his body was becoming. There was this desire to keep his belly stuffed with pups that he wasn't the proudest of. It was only made worse by the pleasure his instincts found in the proof of how good of an omega he was; he would be able to carry numerous, healthy litters for his mate with ease. His brain frequently forgot General Kenobi had died.

Hiding the pregnancy wasn't an option anymore with how tight his armor was getting. He didn't want to hurt them by binding his stomach. His toned middle had given way to a small bump and, with the amount he was having, it was sure to grow fast. Watching his torso surrender to the pups inside was fascinating after years of conformity. Such a delicate curve had to have been misplaced on his physique. Even if he could hide it, he wouldn't. Missed opportunity was all reluctance led to.

Honestly, he didn't know how Keeli had done it. He didn't understand how someone could tell a Jedi General they weren't mated to about their child. He sounded old-fashioned, but Rex had genuinely never considered having children with anyone besides his mate.

Keeli had been terrified by the same anxieties Rex held, but he had been on more of a time crunch (Keeli had carried his daughter for five months or the normal Nikto gestation period.). His batchmate hadn't known Niktos and Humans were compatible until he had gotten knocked up. Keeli had asked his batchmate for guidance when he found out he was expecting Pounamu. Rex had offered what little advice he could because he was unfamiliar with how an interspecies pregnancy would work, but he instructed him to go to General Di. Rex recognized that the Jedi adored his brother and would love their child.

Their daughter was a toddler now, but Keeli and General Di had yet to come out as a couple to the Council (They both usually covered up their necks when around people oblivious to their relationship. If Keeli smelled like General Di, it could be pushed aside as a product of how often they were together.). Rex could handle a secret relationship, but he could tell it bothered Keeli. He was irritated by the banning of mating marks even if the relationship lacked attachment. His family was being punished because of the outliers who had fallen and allowed their love to be replaced with obsession. He had agreed with his husband because of the possibility of being separated from each other or their children. General Di could leave the Order, but Keeli would never be allowed to leave the GAR.

Children, the plurality of it, was a new development. Fox had a few words with General Di over the comm after Keeli had announced there was another little one on the way. Keeli was more relaxed than he had been during the first pregnancy and was starting to take it easy earlier than before. Pregnant clones went to the Temple, but that didn't work when a person didn't want the Council to find out about their eldest.

There were many indications of Pounamu being General Di and Keeli's daughter. If anyone had noticed, they hadn't said anything. She had been brought to the Temple after having been supposedly given to Di by her biological family. Lacking horns on her face and claws on her hands, the girl was clearly not a full red Nikto. Most of her outer appearance came from her sire, but she had been gifted Keeli's amber eyes and scent. Of course, only a vod would know the earthy musk had been inherited from Keeli. With leftover baby fat on his middle, Keeli had watched with fondness as his riduur lied to the Council about the newborn resting in the clone's arms.

The couple had a semblance of an idea of what would be done once Pounamu's baby brother was born and delivered to the Temple. Akna would be named after a highly-respected deity who represented fertility in the Nikto culture. Pounamu was a traditional name loosely based on the word for signal, naumiit, as pounamu was a signal from the Manda in the form of a gemstone native to Mandalore. Keeli had told Rex it was only fair that General Di named their second.

Rex wished Kenobi had been able to name one of their pups. He would've liked for the Jedi to have approved of the name he longed to use. He couldn't recall any names the beta had mentioned liking so he couldn't even have that. All he had were the blessings left behind and the delusions of a better life.

When he woke up, eyes sore and far too weak to open, he continued with the deceptions of the night before. The hands cupping his swollen midsection were those of his mate. They were as rough as he remembered with slender fingers and gentle touches. It already felt like an eternity had passed since he had last felt him. Rex could detect his ghost leaving brief kisses on the bump and the warmth of air as he whispered secrets to their child. He would always feign innocence whenever Rex asked before wrapping him in a secure embrace and informing Rex that their pup would disclose to him when they were older. It was disgustingly domestic, but Rex had soaked up every second of affection. He never knew when it would be taken away.

The daydream disgraced the memory of General Kenobi. It wasn't him and it never would be. Acting like it was him would be, in and of itself, a lie.

However, as he slowly regained thinking ability, Rex realized he had overlooked something the night before: Fox's hold had settled at the bottom of the bump. The hands touching his stomach were very much not a figment of his imagination. Fox cupping the swell, which curved perfectly into his palms, was sending Rex into a panic. For a moment, hormones made his eyes water and lungs fail as the oppressive anxiety of waking the other up stifled him. He couldn't lie his way out of this, for Fox could detect Rex's bullshit from lightyears away. He was so overjoyed by the presence of his ori'vod that he forgot he was visibly pregnant.

Rex assessed the situation after the initial dread (He had squeezed the robe up by his head for reassurance.). Fox's nose was lodged into his neck, yet he was breathing steadily enough to be asleep. He was an extremely light sleeper which came from years of needing to wake up at a moment's notice, but Rex had gotten out of his grip before without disturbing him.

Hands slowly crept towards his waistline in order to pry Fox off, but as soon as he made contact the grip tightened. Rex tensed up at the realization that his brother had been awake the entire time. Staring at the metal wall next to the bunk in shock, he dared not move in the hopes it was another dream. Yet, Rex could detect Fox scenting him. The gentle way he moved his face along Rex's scent gland was almost comforting.

Fox yawned into his shoulder, "You smell like milk."

Rex nearly started crying again and, _fuck_ , he hated how his emotions were becoming so dominant. He had promised himself he was going to inform his vode and General Skywalker about the pregnancy, but he needed a few more days. He needed to collect himself and, selfishly, he wanted it to be _his_ for a little while longer. If his scent was being replaced with that of a pregnant omega's, he wouldn't be able to hide the pregnancy for as long as he had planned.

However, his worry went away as Fox assured him (obviously sensing the distress of his vod'ika yet again), "Cody told me. I had to search for it."

So he wasn't completely shrouded in a new scent, but Rex had no idea how much time he could realistically conceal the pregnancy. Days was what he was trying to hammer in, yet he was already mapping out the course of months. Three people knew now which was more than the original plan by about two. Rex could comprehend that Cody was acting in his best interest when he let in Fox on the secret, but he was going to stab him the next time they crossed paths. He had _no right_ to inform anyone about Rex's personal business.

That didn't detract from the feeling of relief. He wouldn't have to go through the pressure of announcing the news to Fox himself. Fox was protective and quick to turn on the sire until they gained his respect. It was near impossible to be found trustworthy by Fox if a person wasn't aliit. General Kenobi's reputation didn't need to be tarnished even if it was only in Fox's eyes. Rex was still deciding if he was going to reveal who the sire was to the Council or General Skywalker.

Rex whimpered and he despised the weak sound of his own voice, "I can't lose them. Not after-" His brother pressed him firmly against his chest as he began to tremble, "I can't, Fox. I _can't_. Not again."

His brother just silently held him, placing the robe close enough to his face that he wouldn't cry directly into it, and waited until Rex had stopped sniffling. Fox was better at actions than words when it came to consolation, but it was no less soothing.

"You would never put them in danger. How many?" He was touched by the fact that Fox believed he would be able to pull through with the pregnancy. His ori'vod was so stupidly calm and rational in moments of high stress. Rex was as well at any other time.

Rex murmured, "Four."

Fox paused in surprise, taking in the large number, before asking. "I've been there for Keeli during his pregnancies. I've been there for you. Why didn't you tell me?"

A quiet fell as Rex rushed to think over why he didn't tell Fox or anyone in general really. There were many reasons, but disappointing General Kenobi and his vode was at the top of the list.

So he answered with a quiver: "In case I miscarried."

An omega who couldn't carry their pup to term was useless. Rex had begged for himself to put that notion aside. There was no point in holding himself hostage. It was dated, but it came up every time he thought about losing one of his pups. He didn't need any more proof of how broken he was. 

Arms finally unwrapped from his torso as Fox sat up. Rex sat up in a rush, expecting the need to plead for him to stay. A second of worry was wasted, for Fox reached over the side of the bunk to get a datapad in his armor.

"You don't deserve this," Fox spoke with a bitterness akin to his fragrance.

_There was a time when Fox had watched in confusion-drenched horror as his brother screamed and sobbed until there was no air left in his lungs. Rex preferred ignoring its existence._

Pressing his back against the wall and his cheek on Fox's shoulder, he began to watch Fox go through paperwork on the datapad. He rubbed the bottom of the bump to soothe the stretched skin and lightly hummed as he felt a flutter. Reading over the reports reminded him of when he was a cadet. They would often study together in a similar position.

Rex closed his eyes as soon as they hit the word "Rako" on the datapad. If he ever saw Rako Hardeen in person, he would shove a blaster down his throat and pull the trigger. He would respect the code of the man he loved as long as his murderer wasn't in his general vicinity. It was when he heard the sound of a finger shifting back and forth on the pad that he reopened his eyes. Not to read the report but to peek at Fox.

His lips were pressed into a fine line and his eyes were moved quickly in their sockets as he reread. This only led to more puzzlement, for Fox squinted at the letters in disbelief. Shaking his head, Fox turned to Rex, "Did General Kenobi have anyone who would want him dead?"

Rex snorted, "Other than half the galaxy?" but there was a hint of sorrow in his humor

The question of who hired Rako Hardeen had yet to be answered and he didn't believe anyone was actually going to look into it. His general seemed to be so caught up in his own emotions that he hadn't looked further into the motivation of the killer.

What Fox asked next was treasonous and would've warranted removal if Rex had been someone else, "Anyone with power in the GAR, Senate or Order?"

It was Rex's turn to be confused.

Fox tossed the datapad onto his mound of blacks with exasperation, "My report has been altered. Someone deleted where I questioned why the artificial scent Hardeen was using wasn't dealt with."

Artificial scents were something Fox was familiar with because of his undercover work. People didn't trust a stranger who reeked of metal like a droid. They smelled sharply of chemicals and sweetener which made Fox bewildered by how any natborn could be fooled by them. Rex couldn't help agreeing. He wondered what person had paid for the death of the father of his children. What power did they hold and would they strike again?

Fox needed to stop moving to get out of the bed because it was consistently freaking Rex out, but Fox was nothing if not there for him. Rex should really stop doubting his worth. He motioned his head towards the door after getting up, "Ready to go out?"

Clearly, they were both keen on moving forward from their discovery for the time being.

"I won't break down again if that's what you mean," Rex deadpanned even though he was a second from breaking down again. Fox rolled his eyes before offering his hand to help Rex out of the bunk. He wasn't hindered by his pups yet, but he still took the extra leverage.

Fox got dressed at a practiced speed, driving the datapad back into its compartment, before leaving to wait outside the door. Rex didn't move until he was sure he wouldn't come back in. Fox would hopefully assume he was changing into his armor. Rex also wished for privacy in that regard. He glared at the belt on the floor in distaste. Waxer's complaints about the belt being the bane of his existence made so much sense now. At this stage, the flexible cushion curved as his stomach pressed against it, but the belt would dig into his skin and leave itchy, red indents behind. He had experienced worse, but it was a persistent annoyance.

He hurried to the bunk as he snatched the robe from it. Lifting the collar up to his nose, he took a deep inhale of a scent that people often associated with an omega. Sweet and cozy and wonderful in every way. Being about the same size as Kenobi, Rex was taller, it was almost logical for him to slip on the robe. The fabric felt comfy and soft on his bare skin. Flattening the cloth over the swell, it registered how this robe would be the closest his children would ever get to their father. His intention was to make it into four, separate baby blankets, but he wouldn't be doing that until the last shred of Kenobi's perfume departed.

It was silly to wish it would never fade.

\------

There was a small room next to the barracks designated for visiting battalions which was used as a recreational space. It had been supplied with a couch, chairs, table, and basic forms of entertainment such as the holotable used for news and the occasional holodrama. Having been mostly stocked by the Coruscant Guard themselves as they collected credits or went sifting through the trash, it was understandable that nothing was in the best of shape. This hadn't stopped three people from clambering onto the musty couch which was bending slightly under their combined weight. The sole factor keeping it together was Ahsoka's extended, subtle use of the Force, for she was focusing her attention towards Dogma. Tup was leaning his back against the sofa in the space between Fives' legs with a heated water bottle pressed against his lower abdomen (The three clones lacked torso armor which was the norm for times of relaxation. It was their leave despite recent events.).

Dogma had split Tup's hair into three, even segments so Fives and Ahsoka would be able to follow him as he taught them how to braid. Despite her lack of hair, the padawan seemed to be picking up the pattern of combing her fingers through curly locks. Fives was prone to tangling or missing a step as he corded the strands. Tup's laughter filled the room because of his inability and the subsequent lecture, but Fives was too preoccupied with the breathless and jovial tone to listen to Dogma. If he had, he would have known Dogma was more concerned with him hurting Tup than the actual product. He came to after Dogma had undone the hair in order to do a more complicated braid while Ahsoka watched and asked questions. Fives had no idea how Dogma was weaving hair from the side into the braid. He wasn't even directly behind Tup, his arms having to reach over Fives, so how was it so clean?

The scene Fox and Rex walked in on was one of the rare moments of genuine calm. There was an atmosphere of tragedy in the room along with the distinct smell of rotting fish. Sadness was explainable with the slight downward turn of Ahsoka's lips or the frigid silence that left all four occupants awkwardly waiting for another to break it. The certainty of the situation was more numbing than anything, but Rex was relieved he didn't sense the blind fury of his general in Ahsoka.

Rex adjusted quickly to the acrid aroma and through his peripheral he noticed Fox wrinkling his nose in a reaction so brief only he witnessed it. The source of the smell, Tup, sheepishly mouthed an apology to the newcomers. Rex was still getting used to Tup and Dogma's schedules. His own came and went as it wished, so their uniform times should've been straightforward. Actually, the inconsistent nature of his periods was why he hadn't pondered the thought of being pregnant.

Kix had been concerned by how stunted his cycle was after Zygerria, so Rex had humored him by allowing him to draw blood. The beta had a glint of jealousy in him as he checked Rex over. Kind as always, but Rex could detect how much he longed to have a child with his alphas. Rex was certain they would've had ten kids at that point with many more on the way if any of them had been an omega. But, there was something more under the envy. Something personal and meaningful Rex could never understand.

Fox broke the silence, smirking towards the clone in the middle of the couch, "Can you even braid?"

"Fuck off, Fox," Fives groaned as he flipped off the commander which resulted in Fox chuckling with amusement. Rex and Fox recognized the signs of courtship and this alpha was helpless in the presence of Tup.

The younger omegas, on the other hand, seemed to be pleased by the teasing. Dogma's mouth curled slightly up despite never drifting away from his work. Rex enjoyed seeing him this relaxed and confident. He was in his element and no one was shunning him because of it.

Tup grinned as he waved at Fox and Rex, "Su cuy'gar."

There was a recognition as Fox and Tup made eye contact that Rex was not expecting.

This was when Dogma peeked up which turned into a full-on scan within no time. Dogma hadn't been quick enough to hide his expression as Fox had before. A blush crept up his cheeks and neck as he took in the red-armored figure slowly. What surprised Rex the most was how Fox returned the stare which left Dogma covering up his flushed face in his hands. Fives nudged his kih'vod in the side jokingly and that only resulted in him burying deeper into his palms.

"Good to see you two again," Fox aimed the statement at Tup and Dogma, but he gazed at Dogma as he spoke.

Rex, unlike the other people in the room, knew when Fox was legitimately flirting with someone. He had seen the show Fox would put on during undercover. The best part was when the senator being protected realized the petite, ditzy omega at the bar who had moaned so beautifully when played with was a null clone. His ori'vod had an unholy amount of blackmail. Rex remembered how seething Fox had been when a suspect tried to claim him during undercover. It was well-known that Fox had a preference for clones over natborns. What made Dogma stick out though? Furthermore, how did they know each other?

Fox went on, "I talked to Dogma and Tup a few times at the Temple," and Rex could catch his implication. He had met Dogma when he was pregnant with Ka'ra and Dinui. Fox had made a habit of inspecting the clone creche. Tup must've visited at some point even if Rex was pretty certain cadets were never brought to the Temple unless necessary, but that didn't explain everything. Rex would definitely bother him about it later.

Tup positioned his braid to lay over his shoulder as he watched Dogma come out of his hiding place. Fives and Tup seemed amused, but the padawan was considerate enough to change the subject.

"That reminds me," Ahsoka turned to Dogma as she chirped, "You promised to let me see your pups when we arrived on Coruscant."

Dogma had been left bashful, but that didn't stop him from fretting, "It's been so long since I've seen them-," his eyes widened as his tone shattered, "-What if they don't recognize my scent anymore?"

Tup placed his hand gently on Dogma's knee and Rex witnessed the subtle conversation going on between them that had been built on years of companionship. Dogma didn't talk about his children often, but it was clear they were never far from the front of his mind. It made him think about his own babies, resting inside of him, who he wouldn't be able to raise until the end of the war. Pups who might not recall his face but know that there is familiarity in every whiff of cinnamon.

Would his pups know Obi-Wan's scent without having ever met him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing a one-shot for this called Beloved Weakness that is about Slick and Cody.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a fat second, but I’ve started other works for some reason. Can finally do my Recho prompt.

Watching the couch almost give out as Ahsoka, Fives, and Dogma got up was an entertaining experience. The brief widening of Fives and Tup's eyes and the apologetic glance Dogma sent Fox's way before Ahsoka quickly reached out her hand to stop the collapse. It was a very satisfying and effortless display of the Force, a soft energy growing in the room: the couch stopped creaking in pain and it almost seemed to have relaxed as a sentient would.

Ahsoka let out a relieved sigh, closing her eyes as she let her arm drop to her side. It was an unnecessary use of the Force, but what had been done was entirely based on instinct. She sensed something breaking, and her desire to fix it was too great (The fact that she had been previously focussed on keeping the sofa together had not helped.).

She did smile at the appreciative nod Fox gave her as she joined the group on their journey to the Temple. Under the putrid smell that was Ahsoka Tano to any clone, Rex could sense a content aura that was entirely absent from his general. The death of General Kenobi was a shadow on their actions, but she was at least able to enjoy the company of those around her. It was good for her to be around people her age like Dogma and Tup.

The walk to the Temple didn't take long as Fox led them through a series of narrow corridors. Rex didn't ignore how Dogma stayed close behind the older omega and how the brief words they shared didn't echo towards the back of the group. Ahsoka, Fives, and Tup were lost in their own conversation behind Rex, but the captain was more intrigued by the glow of Dogma's face as he whispered.

Seeing Dogma this happy was a rare sight, and he could deduce it had a little to do with both the thought of his children and Fox. Rex had seen shinies crush on commanding officers before, but most of those were dead-ends with no possible hope for a future. With how Fox had reacted to Dogma, Rex believed it could work, and he wished to help his vod'ika find success where he could not.

A palm hovered over his belly, an act he hoped no one picked up on, as his thoughts turned to how his pups lacked a father. Dogma deserved more than the likely bastard of a natborn the sire of his children was.

Fox would be such a good buir to Dogma's pups. His ori'vod may be a little rough around the edges, but he cared about his family more than anything. There was a natural connection between them that made Rex slightly jealous; they both sought the companionship of the other through brief touches of the hand or what Rex could swear was Dogma leaning against Fox if not for the distance between them.

When they properly entered the Temple (into an area with breathing room), Tup broke off from the back to make his way to Dogma's side, his braid swaying as he moved, and it halted the chemistry Rex had witnessed. There was a final glance between the two that seemed akin to longing before Dogma began preoccupied with gushing about his ade to Tup. He was still happy: the smile on his face never left as he spoke. It was just different in Tup's presence. His eyes weren't as bright, and it felt like he had to restrain himself from returning to Fox.

The Temple was as mesmerizing as always with its diverse architecture and patterning. Gentle colors and tones among intricate details that Rex wouldn't be able to find all of even if he searched for a lifetime. Overwhelming when he had first entered its halls as a shiny used to the bleakness of Kamino, but there was comfort in where the father of his children had grown up. If Rex didn't know any better, he would say that Dogma's tattoo reminded him of some of the designs. Then again, he couldn't say for certain when Dogma received his facial tattoo.

Rex believed they had almost arrived at the creche when they came across another traveler. Rex would've preferred a simple introduction but Fives beat him to it.

"How's baby momma?" Fives jokingly asked as he sauntered toward their fellow clone.

Waxer was the one coming from the direction of the nursery dressed in plain, brown robes that reminded Rex of those worn by Jedi. The main differences were how snug the cloth fit across an undeniably plump stomach and how the robes clung to a slight curve of his hips that hadn't been there before. However, the features were to be expected for a person who was full term with twins. Clones had the tendency of carrying multiple pups unlike natborn humans and it was far more common to see a vod expecting twins rather than a singleton.

The expecting carrier was rubbing the bottom of the swell, a calming scent escaping his glands and filling the noses of the clones with its potency (Rex was genuinely curious over how Ahsoka was experiencing the scent or if she was at all. She still wasn't reacting to the odor surrounding Tup and even Waxer needed to adjust after getting close enough.). It contrasted the mock glare he aimed at Fives, grinning in amusement, "Watch your tongue, ARC. I can still kick your ass." His harsh words hadn't stopped him from pulling Fives into a hug, Fives awkwardly leaning into the embrace so that he wasn't touching Waxer's bump.

Rex had last seen Waxer hours before Kenobi died when he had accompanied Boil and the general to visit him at the Temple. The general had claimed Waxer glowed bright in the Force along with the pups nestled in his womb as soon as Boil entered into his line of sight.

After only being allowed to comm each other for brief moments during the majority of the pregnancy, Rex would be understating if he said the riduure were happy about the reunion. Both of them had been entranced in the other as Boil slowly walked over to where Waxer had been put on bed rest. The two of them had glanced away out of respect when Waxer had yanked his husband into a kiss, tears streaming down as Boil cupped his swollen belly. They would've stayed in the position for far longer, lost in the euphoria of their mate, if they hadn't needed to savor Boil finally being able to experience their pups moving against his palms.

Rex had loved watching the two, hardened soldiers grow soft as General Kenobi described the Force-signatures of the overdue pups. Waxer had complained about how they decided to wait until their other buir was present, but, while he delivered a stern glare to his stomach, his mouth twisted upward into a tender smile.

Rex remembered wondering if Obi-Wan would be able to sense their children when he was further along and if that same adoration given to Waxer by his husband would be given to him.

In the present, Rex looked at Waxer with a form of envy he was sadly accustomed to, but he shoved it down like he had so many times before. An easy enough task for he mostly felt admiration and joy for the soon-to-be buir.

As soon as Waxer left Fives' embrace, a glimmer of tears in his eyes so faint Rex wouldn't have noticed if not for how often they graced his own, Rex reciprocated a smile that Waxer sent his way. A smile that soon grew downwards as Waxer's hands drifted from rubbing his midsection to supporting his back, wincing ever so slightly with his movement.

Rex motioned towards Waxer's stomach, "Any day now?"

"More like right now," Waxer snorted and rolled his eyes, "I feel like I'm about to burst and my water broke a while back. They let me into the creche because my scent calms the pups. I couldn't stand one more second in that damn medbay, but I'm expected to head back." Rex and everyone else in their group found themselves hating the circumstances more when Waxer lovingly began to cradle his stomach as he choked on his words, "Boil won't be here in time, but I can't wait to have them in my arms."

Out of all the people there, Dogma and Rex were the only ones who could truly understand where Waxer was coming from. Dogma had Tup gently squeezing his hand to ground him, but Rex had nothing. For a moment, his fears and hopes collided as thoughts bombarded him senselessly, but it stopped when he first detected Waxer sniffling.

The shine of hidden tears had turned into streaks with Waxer clutching at the cloth layered over his children. Waxer had been similarly deprived of his mate as Rex and the uncertainty of Boil's return from Crysol was beginning to hit Waxer at full-force. It must've been terrible having his husband taken from him so close to the birth of their children. Rex could empathize with the growing fear that resulted from waiting.

Nevertheless, Waxer collected himself before he addressed his vode and Ahsoka, "If you're still on Coruscant, I'll introduce you to Kotyc and Mirdala."

"Kotyc?" Fox tilted his head in question, Dogma and Tup suspiciously closer to him since they had stopped.

"After Cody. Don't tell him yet, but it was Boil's idea. Doesn't want the Commander to know how sappy he is. Cody has done so much for our family and not to mention General-"

But he stopped, his hands tensing around his stomach before his whole body froze. It was sudden and expected in a way. General Kenobi was a new development that everyone was still trying to process. He had most likely forgotten that his general had even passed only to be harshly reminded, but this appeared to not be the reason when Waxer quickly sniffed the air after the pause.

It was Rex's turn to tense up when Waxer began studying him, a confused squint crossing his face for a brief moment. Fox claimed he didn't smell pregnant yet, but pregnant omegas were more susceptible to noticing scent changes. However, Rex almost surrendered a sigh of relief when Waxer switched his gaze to Dogma who seemed far more comfortable than Rex had been. Maybe it was something other than the pregnancy because Waxer's furrowed brows and pursed lips wouldn't have been aimed at Dogma if that had been the case.

Dogma was nevertheless uneasy with the scrutinization (even if less than Rex) but that didn't stop him from asking in concern, "Is something wrong?"

The question knocked Waxer out of his stupor as he shook his head lightly, "No, I just smelled something off. I'm sorry, but I don't think I was ever introduced to you two." He addressed the two youngest clones with the last statement. In Rex's opinion, he was attempting to move on from the scent he had detected.

Rex was more than happy to oblige by introducing their kih'vod, "Tup and Dogma. They were deployed right before Umbara."

"We're visiting my pups," Dogma spoke up before backing down at the flash of pity in Waxer's gaze.

It was a common reaction to discovering a young vod like Dogma had pups. That he had carried children before ever stepping foot on the battlefield. Luckily, Torrent had become aware of this fact while Dogma was on trial so he hadn't witnessed the immense wave of guilt felt that had washed over every member of the company.

Despite the initial terror of realizing his secret had been revealed, Dogma had been relieved to finally let some of his thoughts out. There had been the dread of being turned away, but his kih'vod had been pleasantly surprised when he came out of his stress heat to find his vode willing to console. He could remember how Kix stroked Dogma's hair, the younger's head in his lap, as he trembled and sobbed while rasping out words. Krell had taunted him over his pups in the cell: threatened to keep him alive after his vode were dealt with to use him as a broodmare. Krell wished for a loyal, submissive mate and Dogma would be beautiful with his litter growing in him. He was the perfect omega in every way, so Krell had no choice but to make him his.

Rex would be lying if he said Dogma hadn't been softer at the beginning and the discovery of his past pregnancy made sense in that context. Leftover baby fat shaped his figure, making him more maternal and delicate. His weight dropped to that of an average trooper the further they went along on Umbara because of the general lack of rations and constant workload. However, based on what Dogma said, Krell had found him attractive early on: from his squishy middle, thicker thighs, and grabbable ass to a chest that was clearly waiting for a pup to feed (Krell's words, not Rex's). Once he had confirmed he was an omega, Krell couldn't wait to make him fat with his pups.

Apparently, Krell had finally studied the files of his assigned troopers after it had been divulged that Tup and Rex were omegas.

Rex couldn't begin to describe the absolute loathing he held towards that demalgolka. He could understand how it had been almost instinctual for Dogma to shoot him.

Of course, Waxer only knew of the pups and Umbara. No outsiders knew who had dealt with the general or what Krell had threatened to do to Dogma, but that didn't take away from how horrible the rest of it was.

Waxer's eyes were still soft, but the sorrow was now spread to the entire group, "Boil won't tell me much and neither will the Jedi, but I heard it was hell. I can't imagine what it was like being dumped into that. I should've been there to help."

His belief wasn't isolated to him, for Rex could detect the very same regret in Ahsoka and Anakin. They had left their men to suffer and die without cause. However, Waxer shouldn't have been ashamed of staying back. He was ensuring the safety of his pups; he was protecting the legacy of the clones. The added stress would've done more harm than good.

It was after a final, harsh wince, leaning against Fives for support as he clutched at his belly, that Waxer said his goodbyes. As Waxer made his way back to the medbay, Rex noticed a sadness around him that reflected his own. It made him dwell over himself, Dogma, Keeli, and all the vode who had suffered needlessly throughout their pregnancy. How could the jealousy persist when his vode had it just as bad as him? At least, he thought harshly, their pups were alive. Yet, as he gave a glance down, he remembered: his were too.

For now.

Dogma was the one to go into the creche first, easily navigating the room to where his pups were and nodding to the crechemaster as he entered. Ahsoka also seemed to recognize her and waved in return to the welcoming smile of the woman. The crechemaster was a Togruta that couldn't have been much older than General Skywalker. Her skin was like the nature Coruscant lacked, dark brown and white coated her montrals, and the markings on her face were akin to Ahsoka's. She smelled of clean sheets, and it was peculiar how subtle the smell was.

There were various cribs in the room: some filled with singular pups while others contained two to three pups cuddling their presumed siblings. The cribs looked far more comfortable than the ones on Kamino with the cushion underneath the pups and the fluffy blankets on top of them. There was an overwhelming scent of sweet milk in the room that reflected how Waxer smelled and any other pregnant clone. The main difference being that Ahsoka was able to detect this aroma as if they were natborn children which she was clearly amazed by based on the questioning look she sent Rex's way.

The scent was calming and made Rex feel at peace as he watched Dogma land at the crib carrying his twins. His kih'vod ended up glancing back at Fox, who had been conversing with the crechemaster (something Rex had not noticed until then), who then began to join Dogma's side. It was peculiar in that Dogma acted as if he would've been severely disappointed if Fox hadn't tried to go near the pups. He was biting his bottom lip, a habit both Tup and him carried, and softly tapping his foot as he waited for Fox to come over. His eyes lit up when Fox was within touching distance and a grin crossed his face, but it dimmed when he realized Rex was watching.

His pups were snuggling in a singular crib with an empty crib closeby that Rex deduced was one of theirs. They were in 501st blue-footed onesies (pups were outfitted with the color of their carrier's battalion) with a pup gnawing gently on their tired brother's thumb. The tired baby possessed a curly set of locks that were similar to Tup's whereas the one teething on his brother had the standard straight of most clones. Both, however, carried the eyes of their carrier with a light brown that resembled gold if reflected correctly.

The awake pup didn't take notice of Dogma until he was lifting him with the familiarity expected of a parent. He didn't mind being detangled from his sibling once he got a good sniff of Dogma's scent which left him cooing and shoving his nose into Dogma's shoulders. His little fingers clung to his buir's blacks for additional comfort.

Scent, at the moment, wouldn't give any hints towards who the father of Dogma's pups was. Rex wondered if it might affect Dogma if the scent of one of his pups was the scent of their sire. Hopefully, both would smell like a fresh storm in the calm of dusk as Dogma did or like the morning dew as Tup did.

Dogma swayed as he held the pup tightly against his chest, nuzzling his face against their hair and absorbing their scent much like the pup was doing to him. Tears were going down his cheeks and into the pup's black tufts.

The sadness of Waxer.

The sadness of Rex.

The sadness of a parent.

His baby seemed overjoyed by the presence of the buir who had been gone for so long, but that didn't stop them from briefly turning around to make a grabbing motion at their brother. He pouted when he was unable to reach the napping pup. Fox smiled, like Dogma's it faded once he remembered the others in the room, before taking the other baby out of the crib. It was like he had picked up a child before, but, more significantly, like he had picked up that specific child before.

Younger pups were fussier around non-parents or people they weren't used to. Regardless, the other pup slowly blinked awake upon finding themselves in Fox's arms, processed who was holding them with a quick squint, and then promptly went back to dozing while pressing against Fox. Based on the reaction, Fox had been around them before and it made sense if he had befriended Dogma during the time he was pregnant at the Temple. Fox visited the clone creche often (and the natborn creche where Pounamu Di was held) so it could be assumed he also visited Dogma's pups.

Rex was becoming even more convinced that he should try to get them together.

It felt perfect when Fox handed over the pup to Dogma, a soft look between them that left Dogma blushing, as the adoration Dogma held for the pups in his arms was pure. Everyone wanted to get their hands on the pups, but it was Dogma's turn. He allowed the pups to adjust in his arms as he pressed their faces securely into the scent glands on his neck. Instinctively, Dogma calmed down in their presence, purring lightly as he hugged the pups closer to him with each arm designated to a respective pup.

Upon remembering his vode and Ahsoka, Dogma came out of his euphoric state. Dogma kissed the head of the sleeping baby in his arms with a "Ka'ra," before kissing the wiggling one with a "Dinui." Dinui was definitely a storm where Kara was a sprinkle. But, who knows, maybe Ka'ra was a downpour.

Dinui was getting restless in Dogma's embrace much to everyone's amusement, so no one was surprised when he started babbling with excitement as Dogma passed him to Tup.

Tup familiarly held the pup, as Fox and Dogma had, before lifting the baby up in front of his face while they giggled and reached out for him, "Do you remember your ba'vodu?"

The baby squealed in joy when Tup gently blew a raspberry into his cheek. Taking this as a yes, Tup began cradling the child. Fives was completely heartstruck, watching in awe as Tup dangled his braid over the baby for them to grab only to take it just out of reach.

Tup smirked, allowing the braid to fall into the baby's hand and subsequently his mouth, then winked at Fives, "We can have a few of these after the war."

Fives really had no choice but to join Tup as he carried the child, his front pressed against Tup's back as he placed his arms under Tup's. Tup turned his face to look back at Fives, delivering a peck to his mouth. It was a mock replica of a complete family and, despite how sweet the whole situation was, it left Rex's stomach churning.

He could see the flash of jealousy shared in Dogma which was covered by a light tease, "Stop kissing in front of my kids. You're going to corrupt them like how Fives corrupted you."

Tup rolled his eyes at the remark, "Like we didn't corrupt each other as cadets."

"Can't imagine either of you as cadets. I would love to hear any interesting stories you have. Rex won't tell me anything about his childhood," Ahsoka explained as Dogma transferred Ka'ra to her. Dogma shifted uneasily at her words, made uncomfortable by her request whereas Tup was exhibiting only concern for Dogma.

"There isn't much to say," Tup sheepishly offered which was easily accepted.

For a moment, the storm surrounding Dogma turned into a weak, pathetic drizzle and Rex was curious over why that statement got such a reaction or if it was even what Tup said. Dogma had noticeably tensed up when Ahsoka asked about their time before the 501st. Rex wasn't blind to the looks of concern sent Dogma's way from Tup. If he had paid more attention, he would have seen the same stare coming from Fox.

Further pondering wasn't allowed, for Ka'ra started sobbing uncontrollably in Ahsoka's arms. The pup was squirming around in her grasp as she tried consoling him, but her panic rose when nothing seemed to work.

Yeah, Ka'ra was a downpour.

It didn't seem to matter even when Dogma took him from Ahsoka, lightly bouncing and patting the baby on his hip. Ka'ra did not appreciate the oppressive scent of a natborn alpha; Ahsoka's overpowering scent had been too much for a baby that close which was probably why the crechemaster had such a neutral scent. Dinui was for some reason okay with the smell. Tup had traded Ahsoka Dinui because her scent souring because of shame wasn't helping. Dinui had ended up trying to climb her montrals, but other than that he was fine. Dinui hadn't been affected by Tup either so maybe that was just how he was.

Ka'ra was the opposite of that as Dogma couldn't console him no matter how hard he tried. The longer it failed, the more distorted Dogma's scent became and the louder the pup cried. Fat tears fell down their cheeks as they clutched helplessly against Dogma's blacks and searched for their buir's original scent.

It appeared that all the other omegas in the room had the same idea, but Rex reached Ka'ra first and gave a reassuring nod to a distressed Dogma before taking Ka'ra. Shoving the baby's face into the juncture between his shoulder and neck, Rex let out a subtle amount of his pregnancy pheromones which calmed the baby down. Enough for the baby to smell but not anyone else. He started humming a slow tune he remembered fondly from his time on Kamino and rocked side to side. The baby sniffled, taking in the scent and song, before returning to sleep. The soft melody filled the room even after the pup had closed their eyes and the tender way in which Rex presented it made it fall nicely onto anyone's ear. Such a beautiful, wordless rhythm.

Pups were more content in the hands of a clone omega or pregnant clone, so Rex handed Ka'ra off to Fox who was the closest omega who didn't smell off. Ka'ra simply snuggled into Fox's chest, content with his location, as Fox adjusted the pup into a more comfortable cradling position.

Rex only began regretting his decision once Ahsoka broke the silence left behind in the aftermath of the pup's sobbing, "What song was that?"

"Not anything Mandalorian," Fives answered before Rex could respond, recognizing that Rex was planning on using that lie.

Rex huffed, "It's a rhyme from Lothal that a trainer taught me. His mother used to sing it to him, and I was curious to know what he was humming during...during training."

As Ahsoka said, Rex didn't speak of his cadet years that often. Admitting that one bit was enough to make everyone's eyes widen except for Fox.

Speaking softly to not disturb the pup, Fox clarified, "Vodge?"

Fox was always straight to the point and there were no other trainers from Lothal. Didn't mean he appreciated the look of pity Fox gave him.

"Yes, it was Baphri."

He hadn't said his name in a long time even if his memory persisted much like General Kenobi's. Hadn't acknowledged his existence in a long time, but he had been important to Rex in ways his vode hadn't been. Having an outsider be there for him was so much better than another vod because it felt more genuine and less out of necessity.

Baphri Vodge was one of the younger trainers, so he had mostly hung around Cody's batch along with Rex and Keeli. He had been killed during an outside smuggling expedition, and Rex had been hurt by the loss of his friend. It had changed him fundamentally, and he would never be able to go back to the innocence of when Baphri was alive. He could say with certainty that the best months of his life had been spent with his friend.

Baphri had been new blood to replace a trainer who had disappeared with no warning. He was a kind alpha who was only a few inches taller than Rex and his vode. Hearing him talk about the outside world and all it had to offer was one of Rex's favorite pastimes. Most of what he said or did or sang was stuck on a loop in Rex's brain and would come up at the most inconvenient times.

He was just relieved that they didn't know what the rhyme was because he was scared of how accurate it had been and might still prove to be. But, that didn't matter as they all went back to layering affection onto Dogma and his pups. Basking in the light of family for just a few hours until they had to leave and remember how broken everything had become. He let himself relax, for he didn't know when he could do it again.

If he focussed, there was a hint of citrus in the air.

\------

Mother Tooka run right home

You do not want to be left alone.

If you lose child one

Your life surely will be undone.

If you lose child two

There will be nothing you can do.

If you lose child three

Hopefully, the rest will flee.

If you lose child four

You will never have any more.

If you lose child five

Then none of your kittens have survived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all know that Foxma is one of my OTPs.

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr is @iputtheaceindisgrace


End file.
